


Borrow Some Sugar

by lotrspnfangirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Baking, Cooking, Dean works night shift, Fluff, M/M, Nurse Dean Winchester, Roommates, Writer Castiel, this is super fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 03:10:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15039380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lotrspnfangirl/pseuds/lotrspnfangirl
Summary: “I just… wanted to know if I could borrow some sugar?”Dean stared and Castiel shifted from foot to foot, his ears just as red as his cheeks. “You… want to borrow some sugar?”Dean's new roommate become more than Dean ever expected.





	Borrow Some Sugar

**Author's Note:**

  * For [robotsnchicks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/robotsnchicks/gifts).



> This has got to be the fluffiest thing I've ever written!! I had a few ideas, but once I saw the roommate idea from Robotsnchicks, this came to me!
> 
> I hope you like it!!! ♥

Dean groaned, blinking his eyes against the sunlight filtering in through the shade he forgot to draw when he crashed into bed that morning, and reached for his phone on the nightstand. Pressing the side button, he saw it was only nine forty-two in the morning; he’d only been sleeping for an hour.

“Fuck,” he muttered, rolling over and wondering what had woken him up when he heard it again: a timid knocking on the door frame of his bedroom door. He refrained from repeating the curse and instead called out, “Yes?”

The door clicked open and Dean’s new roommate, Castiel, stuck his head into the crack. “Dean? I… I hope I didn’t wake you… I thought you might still be up…”

Dean stared, waiting, and saw the guilt flash over Castiel’s face.

“Right, well, I was wrong, obviously… I’m sorry, I’ll…”

“Cas,” Dean said, just stopping him from shutting the door, “next time you wake up a nurse off his night shift? Make sure you’re either bleeding or you bring coffee.”

He watched as Castiel’s cheeks turned pink, then darkened, the other man nodding furiously. Dean took pity on him and groaned as he shoved up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, and giving him a tired smile.

“It’s alright, man. Next time, coffee.”

“Or blood?” Castiel added with a small smile and Dean found himself chuckling.

“Yeah, coffee or blood. I’m damn well close to a vampire anyway.” He ran a hand down his face, wiping sleep from his eyes, then met Castiel’s. “So, what’s up?”

“I just… God, it’s so stupid now… I’m sorry I woke you up, but I didn’t want to just assume and take something that was yours, you know? And we haven’t really figured out the whole kitchen thing yet since I’ve only been here for a week now and --”

“Cas, man, you’re rambling. And I’m too damn tired to follow.” Castiel looked guilty again and Dean tried to give him a reassuring smile. “Just ask, what's up?”

“I just… wanted to know if I could borrow some sugar?”

Dean stared and Castiel shifted from foot to foot, his ears just as red as his cheeks. “You… want to borrow some sugar?”

“Yes, I forgot to get some at the store this week and I made a pot of coffee and realized I couldn’t drink it without sugar and I saw you had a bag and I just…” Castiel raised his hand, scratching the back of his neck. He looked sheepish as he added, “How do you like your coffee?”

“Splash of cream,” Dean replied, flopping back onto the mattress and pulling the covers over his stomach. “Me casa, su casa, Cas. Far as I’m concerned, shit like sugar and spices are like toilet paper. Whoever uses the last of it, gets it next.”

“Right, noted,” Castiel replied quickly. “Sorry for waking you…”

The door gave a small groan of protest as Castiel pulled it shut, the lock clicking into place. Dean closed his eyes, sighing softly. He knew, now, that he wasn’t going to get back to sleep. Grateful that he didn’t have to go back into the hospital that night, he flung the covers off again and threw his legs back over the side.

“Cas!” Dean hollered, reaching on the floor for a pair of sleep pants. “Use my large mug!”

***

Dean turned off the ignition, dropping the keys to the passenger side of the Impala, and replaced his hands on the steering wheel. He stared at the dashboard until the numbers blurred together, his fingers aching and white from how hard he was gripping.

His throat felt thick, his head was pounding, like it had been since he’d walked into the waiting room and found the tear-streaked, scared faces of the Cohen’s. It wasn’t his place to tell them, not when there was a doctor in house, but they knew the moment they spotted him. Saw it in his eyes, shiny and wet under the fluorescent lights, saw it on his scrubs, dotted with flecks of blood.

Dean loved the kids he worked with, loved the things they taught him every single day. But on days like this… he wondered why the hell he did this to himself.

A knock on the window made him jump, and he blinked his eyes quickly as he turned his head to see Castiel standing in his pajamas, covered by his ridiculous tan trench coat. Dean nodded, grabbing his keys and stethoscope from the seat and waiting for Castiel to step back so he could open the door.

“Thought you were going into the city today with your sister,” Dean said in form of greeting, accepting the hot mug of coffee Castiel was pressing into his hands.

“Yeah, I was. But I got your text at four this morning and figured I could spend another day with Anna.” Castiel paused, waiting for Dean to shut and lock the Impala, before leading them into the townhouse. “You still off tonight?”

“Yeah,” Dean replied, slipping off his shoes on the deck before stepping inside, and dropping his keys and stethoscope on the table right inside the door. “Next three days, actually.”

Castiel nodded and headed towards the living room, turning once at the doorway to look back at Dean. “See you after your shower.”

Dean nodded and went the opposite direction, slipping into the downstairs bathroom where his pajamas were already waiting for him on the sink. He stripped quickly, shoving his scrubs to the very bottom of the laundry basket, as if hiding them would change the night he had. Then he stepped under the hot spray of the shower, trying to relax under the heat. When the water started to get cold, he washed himself quickly and stepped out, drying and changing before the mirror had even begun to defog.

He sighed as he padded back to the front of the house, preparing to tell Castiel that he was just going to head to bed, when he stopped short. Castiel had pulled Dean’s blanket and pillow from his bed, setting them up on Dean’s side of the couch, a new mug of coffee and a bacon and cheese omelet sitting on the coffee table. Cas was on the other end of the couch, curled up on his side rest with his feet sticking underneath Dean’s blanket and his laptop open on his lap. He was typing, concentrating on his manuscript, but paused and gave Dean a small smile when he saw him in the doorway.

Dean swallowed hard, walking slowly over and slipping beneath his blanket, looking up to see Castiel had already queued up Netflix and had it paused at the start of the next Doctor Sexy episode. He reached for his plate of food and fork, balancing it on his knee as Castiel handed him the remote control.

Dean pressed play and dropped it back between them. He picked up his fork and glanced to the side, watching Castiel read over the last few lines he wrote. The theme song of Doctor Sexy started playing and Dean cleared his throat, catching his roommate’s attention.

“Thanks, Cas,” he whispered, shrugging a shoulder. “You know, for… everything.”

Castiel smiled back and nodded, glancing back at his computer screen. “Just eat your food before it gets cold. I’m not getting back up to heat it up.”

Dean returned his smile and cut off a corner of his breakfast.

***

Dean clenched his teeth, fighting back the urge to scream. It had been the worst night of sleep he could remember having in a while. First, he couldn’t fall asleep for the life of him, and then when he’d finally started to drift, Castiel had decided to do _something_ in the kitchen that Dean was convinced required the use of every goddamn pot and pan they owned.

He had held his breath through every bang and crash and gentle slam of the cabinet, knowing that Castiel was probably wincing every time he made a loud noise. Dean could actually see it, Cas trying to move slow, but the other man was clumsy and awkward when it came to anything cooking related.

Four hours of on and off broken sleep, with crashing from the kitchen had been enough to give Dean a headache. But the moment the smoke alarm started screaming its song, Dean was done. 

“Fucking Christ, Castiel!” Dean yelled as he ripped himself free of the covers, whipping open his bedroom door to the small hallway where Castiel was frantically waving a dishcloth in the air to disperse the smoke from the detector. 

The entire hallway was murky and Dean coughed as he stormed up to Cas, grabbing the towel from him. 

“Windows!” he demanded and Cas nodded, scurrying off with wide eyes to open up every window he could. Within a few minutes, the smoke had dispersed enough that Dean was able to clear enough smoke from the detector to get it to stop blaring at them. 

The silence was deafening. 

Dean turned and saw Castiel standing in the doorway of the kitchen, his face beet red and sweat beading his forehead. He had flour smudged over his shirt and cheek, something red and sticky looking had dripped down one of his pant legs. 

“Seriously, Cas?” Dean asked, exasperated as he chucked the towel across the hallway at him. “You decided to bake something while I was trying to sleep?”

Cas gave him a small smile and looked away. “I didn’t… anticipate it going so badly.”

“Dude,” Dean snorted, walking over to him and gripping his shoulder. He gave him a squeeze and then gently shoved him back through the doorway, steering him towards the kitchen. “You burnt a pot last week when let all the water evaporate out of it.”

“In my defense, I was on a roll! I wrote five thousand words that evening, that doesn’t happen very often.” 

“Uh huh,” Dean answered, rolling his eyes. They moved around the counter, the smell of smoke still strong in the kitchen. “What were you even trying to-”

Dean stopped mid-sentence, his eyes falling on a perfectly baked pie sitting on the countertop. Dean glanced over to see Cas watching him carefully, his eyes worried as he waited for Dean’s reaction. 

“Did you make me a pie?” 

Castiel nodded, a smile finally breaking out over his mouth as he left Dean’s side to reach for the pie, hissing and drawing his hand back when he touched the glass pie plate. “It’s, uh, still hot.”

Dean couldn’t help but laugh and he nodded, reaching across the counter for Castiel’s hand. He pulled him closer, turning on the cold tap, and sticking Castiel’s fingers underneath the water. Castiel’s fingers twitched against Dean’s, and he looked up, meeting his roommate’s crystal blue eyes.

Dean watched as Castiel swallowed, his eyes flicking down to Dean’s hand on his own, then back up, pausing for only a second on Dean’s lips.

“Um,” Castiel whispered, his voice cracking and he tore his eyes away, sliding his hand free and shaking the water off of his fingers. “There’s vanilla ice cream, too.”

“You spoil me, Cas,” Dean answered, licking his lower lip subconsciously before reaching to turn off the water. When he turned back, Castiel was pushing a candle into the center of the pie. He pulled open their junk drawer, pulling out a lighter and put a flame over the wick until it caught. Then, with oven mitts this time, he picked up the pie plate.

“Happy birthday, Dean,” he said with a smile, the flame flickering across his face in a way that had Dean’s breath catching in his throat.

“You really spent the entire day making me a pie?” he whispered, eyes locked with Cas’.

“Yes, I did,” Castiel answered back, giving him a small smile. “I knew Sam wasn’t going to be able to come up until the Spring, and if I’d considered a cake, well, you would’ve had me out on the streets.” Dean chuckled and nodded, making Castiel’s smile widen. “But this is still hot, so make your wish and blow out the candle.”

Dean nodded and stepped forward, placing his hands over each of Castiel’s mitt covered ones. He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them, meeting Cas’ eyes once more as he blew out the candle.

“Want to know what I wished for?” Dean asked in the silence, missing the orange glow on Cas’ face.

“If you say it out loud, it will never come true,” Cas replied, just as soft, and stepped back, sliding the pie back onto the counter.

Dean moved over to Castiel’s other side, reaching up into the cabinets to grab them both plates while Castiel opened up the silverware drawer. Under his breath, Dean heard Castiel add, “Your wishes deserve to come true, Dean.”

Dean handed him the plates and just barely bit back replying, that maybe, they already have.

***

_“Dean, I don’t know why you’re so worried…”_

Dean rolled his eyes, biting back the sigh on the tip of his tongue. “You don’t get it, Sam! Cas has basically kept me fed for the past year, okay? You know the last time I swung through a McDonalds on the way home from a shift?” Dean paused, picturing his brother’s own eye roll, before plowing forward. “A month into when Cas moved in! He can’t bake for crap, but he can cook like it’s nobody’s business.”

_“Yeah, I have heard all about how amazing Cas’ cooking is and how spoiled you are, Dean. What I don’t understand is why you’re freaking out over-”_

“I am not ‘freaking out’, Sam!”

_“You’re completely freaking out. Cas is going to appreciate the gesture, and you know it! Hell, Dean, you could pick up take out and-”_

Dean scoffed, contemplating just hanging up. “I’m not getting takeout, Sam. You’re missing the point.”

 _“No, you’re missing the point, Dean.”_ He heard his brother sigh and they felt silent for a moment, Dean making his third loop through the produce section. _“Dean, Castiel is going to love whatever you make him.”_

“I don’t want to just make him anything, Sammy. I want to make his favorite meal!” Dean said for what felt like the hundredth time.

_“Well, Dean, if you’re not going to straight out ask him what his favorite meal is, you’re going to have to just pick something and stop worrying so much about it. You’re overthinking this, man. What’s something he makes often for you two?”_

Dean paused his pacing, staring down at the tomato case in front of him, racking his brain. Castiel seemed to peruse the Food Network channel when he was unable to focus on writing, because every week he came up with another recipe to try. Takeout was rare, and going out to a restaurant even more so. But every time they _did_ go out… 

“Burgers!” Dean exclaimed, wincing when he saw the woman across the aisle looking at apples jump and turn around to look at him. “Sorry,” he muttered, then readjusted his basket and swapped the side his phone was on. “He loves burgers.”

 _“Well, that only took you, what? A month to figure out?”_ Sam snorted and Dean opened his mouth to tell him off, but Sam was continuing. _“Now, go home and make your boyfriend dinner, and the next call I get better not be that you’re pregnant.”_

“He’s not my -”

He heard Sam laughing, then the phone clicked off. “Fucker,” Dean sighed and shoved his phone back into his pocket. He’d call Sam later and tell him off, but he had to get the ingredients, home, and cooking before Cas came back from his day in the city with Anna.

Everything seemed to be on Dean’s side: the checkout line was only one customer deep, every light was green on his way home, and Cas had texted him that he’d be home a little later than anticipated because Anna needed a Starbucks that caused them to miss their first bus.

Dean made thick cut, cheddar bacon burgers, and laid out all of the toppings on a tray. He’d just finished grilling the rolls and putting them on a plate when the front door opened.

“Dean?” Cas called out, confusion lacing his voice.

Dean smiled and carried the rest of the plates to the kitchen table. “In here!” he yelled back. “I hope you’re hungry!”

Dean turned and waited, excited to see Castiel’s reaction. Castiel came to the doorway, still wearing his trench coat, his eyes wide as he took in Dean standing before the full table.

“Dean, what?” He looked over the spread, then met Dean’s eyes.

“Figured it was my time to make you dinner.” Dean smiled and glanced behind him, fidgeting nervously when he looked back at Cas. “I made you burgers.”

Castiel took a few steps forward slowly, looking back at the table and everything Dean had set out -- from the thick patties to the homemade potato chips. Dean gave him a moment, then cleared his throat.

“Do… do you like it?” he asked, hating how his voice shook.

Castiel turned his gaze from the table back to Dean and stared, doing nothing to help Dean’s nerves. Then, Castiel let out a small laugh, moving forward to close the distance between them. He reached for Dean, his hand sliding from his neck up into his hair, and pulling them together. Castiel’s lips were dry but warm, and felt perfect pressed against Dean’s.

“I love it,” Castiel whispered when they broke apart, and Dean blinked, trying to remember what the question was. Dean found Castiel’s other hand, linking their fingers together and giving it a squeeze.

“Good.”

***

Dean scratched his stomach, yawning wide as he stumbled into the kitchen and pulled open the cabinet. He went through the motions of starting up the coffee pot, then stood over the counter, letting his eyes fall closed as he focused on the sound and smell of the percolating coffee.

He jumped as he felt hands slide around his waist, coming to rest on his stomach. Castiel pressed himself against Dean’s back, letting his head rest between Dean’s shoulder blades. Dean pushed back slightly, giving Castiel the support he needed to lean against him, and removed one of his hands from the counter to lay over his boyfriends.

“Morning,” he said softly, squeezing Castiel’s hand.

“Mmmm,” Castiel murmured into the back of Dean’s shirt, making Dean smile. They stood in silence, waiting for the coffee, Dean rocking them gently where they stood. When the coffee maker beeped, Castiel groaned and stepped back, slumping against the counter and watching Dean pour them two mugs.

He fixed his coffee quickly, then looked over at Cas who was still watching him.

“What’s up, baby?” Dean asked, pushing his mug over.  
“Can I borrow some sugar?” Cas asked, nodding his head towards the sugar bowl.

Dean snorted, remembering the first week Castiel had lived with him, and watched Cas smirk as he followed the same train of thought.

“Only if you give me some sugar, too,” he said as he puckered his lips.

“I don’t know why I put up with you,” Cas snorted, rolling his eyes as he kissed Dean back.

Dean laughed and reached for the sugar bowl, grabbing a spoon from the drawer, and handing them both over. “Because I give you sugar?” Dean said with a shrug.

Castiel bit back his laugh and accepted the sugar, dumping two large spoonfuls into his coffee before handing the bowl back. “That’s really the only reason,” Castiel agreed, laughing when Dean slapped his ass and took both of their coffees up from the counter.

Dean carried them into the living room, settling onto the couch and raising his arm for Castiel to come lay against his side. He handed over Cas’ coffee and looked down, meeting Cas’ gaze.

Castiel looks over at Dean and with a sleepy smile, he asked, "Can I borrow some sugar?"

Dean laughed and kissed him soundly to shut him up.


End file.
